There's a Revolution in My Bedroom
by Sushi Chi
Summary: Derek is a man of few words, but that's okay, he has Stiles now. Sterek.


******Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Teen Wolf.  
**A/N: So here is another AU for you. I had fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it.  


Stiles had been in and out of the home since he was twelve. Foster parents never kept him long, not being able to deal with his talk or his nightmares. It wasn't his fault that he couldn't shut up. As far as the nightmares went, he would rather not have them too.

After a while adults stopped wanting to take him home. He was getting too old. No one wanted to take home a sixteen year old.

Stiles had accepted that, as he watched other kids leaving for homes, knowing that he wasn't going to be one of them. He made a few fantasy plans for what he would do when he turned eighteen.

He wasn't the only sixteen year old in the home, but he really didn't get along with the other's his age. That was until a new kid showed up.

Stiles walked up to him, ignoring the glare and the guarded look in his eyes, "Hi! I'm Stiles."

The kid didn't say anything.

Stiles shrugged, "It's okay dude, you don't need to say anything." Stiles sat down next to him and ignored the way his eyes softened for a second, questioning. "I mean, clearly some shit went down, because you're here and all. S'okay, man. I get it. I think we're getting pizza tonight. Which always rocks because pizza. Also, pudding for later. Little pudding cups? I must say that I usually swipe some and hoard them in my room and pretend I'm a dragon and they're my gold but if you want I'd share my booty with you." He paused, "Booty as in treasure not as in my butt."

The guy raised an eyebrow.

Stiles threw his hands in the air, "What do you expect? You sitting there, like that, staring at me, glaring, no! You are full on glowering and I need to expel my thoughts okay? Also, I was allowed coffee today. I'm not usually allowed coffee. And when I say I was allowed coffee today what I mean is I stole some because I wanted some. I am sixteen and I should be able to choose if I have coffee or not, it's not for other's to decide. Give me coffee or give me death!"

The man huffed and shook his head.

"Yeah, I know. I shouldn't be in charge of my coffee intake, I get it dude." Stiles shrugged, "But let's talk about you! You're new here. Which okay, yeah. Let me give you a lowdown on what all goes on and who to avoid and do not believe anyone if they tell you to run away if you see me coming they are evil lies of evil and-"

The guy put his hand over Stiles' mouth and gave him a pointed look. Stiles tried to talk, his voice came out muffled and the guy pressed harder.

Stiles licked his hand.

He drew his hand back and made a face while wiping it off on Stiles' plaid shirt.

"Kinky." Stiles said.

Stiles opened his mouth to say more when Deaton's voice was heard, "Stiles!"

Stiles jumped up, "Yeah, boss?"

Deaton smiled softly, "I want to have a chat with you. This way please."

Stiles followed Deaton, waving cheerfully at the guy and yelling, "Learn to smile!"

Stiles liked Deaton. He owned the home for kids and ran it the best he could. Stiles honestly couldn't complain about the place, even if he wanted to leave and never come back.

"Who was he?" Stiles asked, walking along-side Deaton. "He's new. I know he is because I haven't seen him around and I would remember if I saw him. He's hot and he'll probably get hotter as he gets older and that's exciting you know? Seeing someone grow into who they are supposed to be and change and it's good. Do you have those feelings about me? Are you excited to watch me grow up into the person I am supposed to become?"

"The person you are supposed to become shouldn't steal coffee." Deaton said, humor tinting his voice.

"Who was he?" Stiles asked, obviously trying to calm down some.

"His name is Derek Hale." Deaton said, "He doesn't talk."

"Like he can't? Or that he just doesn't talk much or what?" Stiles asked.

"The doctor's say there is nothing physically wrong with him. But no one has heard him talk." Deaton said, "Don't expect him to respond to you rambling at him."

"What are you talking about?" Stiles rolled his eyes, "He responded and-"

"He spoke to you?" Deaton stopped and turned to face Stiles.

"Pffft. No." Stiles shook his head, "But he still responded. Glowering and eyebrows and such. Be careful with the words you use, okay? Because he responded but didn't speak. If someone, possibly Derek, had heard that it probably would have hit his self-esteem some. Like that he isn't good enough to even talk to and that is just a lie. He got his points across without speaking. Yeah? Does that make sense? I hope so."

Deaton smiled, "It does, thank you Stiles."

"No problem, boss." Stiles said, "What is his story?"

"How about you ask him?" Deaton replied.

"I think I will." Stiles said, "And he can tell me, with non-verbal speaking, if he wants to. Yes. That is a plan."

.

"Hey man." Stiles said, knocking on Derek's door to his room. "Can I come in?"

Derek looked up. Frowning slightly, he nodded and sat up on his bed.

"Awesome." Stiles took a seat next to the bed. "Pudding?" He held up a cup and a spoon. Derek's eyes widened and he hesitantly reached out and took them.

Stiles opened his own pudding cup, "I told you pizza was good, wasn't I right? I totally am. I know, you're so lucky to have met me. I'll take you under my wing and show you the ways of the world. Like, don't trust the weatherman because chances are they're wrong and it will rain. "

Derek snorted.

"I know." Stiles agreed, bobbing his head up and down. "I have so much wisdom. Hey, so do you mind me hanging out with you?"

Stiles was quiet until Derek shrugged and then shook his head.

"Awesome. As a warning, I may want to hang a lot because of magic spell I encountered by making Mr. Harris angry I don't have many friends." He shrugged as he finished his pudding, "I don't mind it, but like, it sucks? Totally sucks. And if ever I start to annoy you or anything, feel free to let me know and I'll go back to reading books and researching random things online. Deal?" He held out his hand.

Derek stared at it before taking it in his strong grip and shaking it. Then he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, same with you?" Stiles guessed and was pleased when Derek nodded. "Don't worry man. I doubt that I wouldn't want to be your friend. You seem like a pretty great guy, to be honest."

Derek blinked and then his brows furrowed together.

"Hey, I don't mind that you're doing the not-talking thing. And I don't mean that as a oh-yay-now-I-won't-be-interrupted way because like actual dialogue is nice but don't feel like you have to talk, man. Only when you feel up to it, even if it's never."

Derek's eyebrows shot up.

Stiles laughed, "No I don't mean it bad or anything. Come on, dude. I am so not that rude. Just like, be who you are and all that shit. Even if hardly anyone likes who you are. You got to be happy with yourself or there is no point."

Derek's eyes narrowed.

"Hey, I try to be." Stiles held up his hands, "I try to be happy with myself. Don't go looking at me like that. And yeah, I legit get it if you are a grumpy face yet. As said earlier, shit had to have gone down and if you ever want to talk (or gesture) about it to get it off your chest, you totally can."

Derek put his pudding cup on his nightstand and gestured outwards with his hand.

"You're just going to let me talk my head off at you, are you?" Stiles asked. When Derek shrugged Stiles clapped his hands. "Okay so-"

.

Stiles was in the middle of a story when Derek got up and opened his dresser drawer.

"Dude, are you showing me your panties?" Stiles asked.

Derek glared at him and got a piece of paper out before handing it over.

Stiles saw the newspaper clipping and promptly schooled his face into something more serious. He had been talking at Derek for two weeks, there constantly by his side, cracking jokes. He always felt great when he managed to get Derek to smile or laugh. He deserved Stiles to not make a joke about this though.

The newspaper article talked about the Hale house and how twelve people died in a house fire. One unnamed family member had been studying for a test when the fire happened and survived.

"My mom died from cancer." Stiles said, voice soft, "My dad was shot down two weeks later." He looked up, "He was the sheriff. I was seven."

Derek pointed at the paper and shook his head.

"So, you weren't studying?" Stiles had found he was pretty good at guessing what Derek meant.

Derek turned around and lifted up his shirt.

Stiles stood up and saw what looked like a decently fresh tattoo. "It's beautiful." He sighed, "Let me guess, you weren't supposed to be getting it and you're thinking you're to blame because of both karma from doing something you weren't supposed to and survivor's guilt?"

Derek pushed his shirt back down quickly before turning and delivering his most frightening glare.

Stiles glared back before hugging Derek so swiftly that they fell onto his bed. Derek struggled under his grip but Stiles held on tight, "No. No. You need this hug, man. I get that you blame yourself and I won't tell you that you aren't allowed to because fuck anyone you can feel however you want." He sighed, "That being said, you shouldn't blame yourself."

Derek stopped struggling.

"I'm sorry for your loss. I won't tell you that it gets better, dude. Because it doesn't, not really. But it gets easier to be happy."

Derek turned and faced him, still in Stiles' grip. Reaching out he caressed Stiles' cheek.

"Glad I'm something that makes you happy." Stiles said, snuggling.

An hour later, Deaton walked by Derek's room and glanced in. He let out a quiet chuckle to see the two boys sound asleep, newspaper article forgotten on the floor and Derek's face hidden under Stiles' armpit.

.

The staff clearly thought that Derek and Stiles' friendship was good for both of the boys. And they found it fascinating at how they held a conversation. Derek still wasn't talking, but Stiles seemed to know what Derek would say if he were.

But they were far from surprised when they saw Derek going in for a kiss in the middle of a sentence.

To Stiles' credit, after the kiss, he finished what he was saying before pouncing on Derek.

"Babe," Stiles laughed, "you need to stop making me laugh right now. I'm trying to eat." He chuckled some more.

Derek rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up," Stiles grinned, "I have not had enough curly fries, I don't know what you mean."

The rest of the orphans thought it was weird, and those who had been there before Derek were glad that Stiles finally had someone else to bother.

They were also glad that that weird Derek had someone to hang out with, so that none of them had to.

.

Stiles glared at the television in the rec room. Nothing good was on. He glanced over at Derek who looked equally bored. Grinning, he jumped up and pulled Derek to his feet, "Dance with me."

Derek shook his head and tried to take some steps back.

"Don't be such a party pooper, babe." Stiles scolded. "If you want, you can just stand there and I'll dance around you or like, I move you. Like a puppet!" Stiles laughed, "And oh, the bitch face has appeared!"

Derek sighed but stood up and raised an eyebrow in the direction of the radio.

"So you think we need music to dance?" Stiles sounded skeptic, "We don't need music to dance, babe. We can just dance."

Derek frowned.

"Oh my God. Fine." Stiles threw his hands up and went and turned on the radio after making sure the television was off. "Now let's dance."

Derek's lips twitched, as if he was holding back a smile but he let himself dance with Stiles. Some fifteen year old scoffed and then left the room, and now it was just Derek and Stiles in there. Stiles let out a burst of laughter when the radio started playing 'I Think We're Alone Now'.

Derek rolled his eyes.

They danced together a bit, no one stepping on the other's toes, which was a miracle, but then Stiles decided to dip Derek and Derek was not surprised when he landed on the floor with Stiles on top of him.

"Oh my God, Derek! Are you okay? I'm sorry. I-"

Grinning, Derek grabbed the back of Stiles' head and pulled him closer before kissing him.

.

Stiles leaned against Derek, his head in the crook of Derek's elbow, "I'm tired."

Derek ran his hand through Stiles's short hair.

"I'm tired, babe." He turned and looked up at Derek. Reaching up, he cupped the nape of Derek's neck, "You're tired too. I know."

Derek nodded and then pulled Stiles closer and laid town. He wrapped his arms around Stiles and sniffed in his ear.

"Oh my God." Stiles smiled, "What the hell are you doing, you weirdo." He laughed and relaxed in Derek's arms.

Derek huffed.

"You're unbelievable." Stiles said. Whispering, he said, "I'm glad I was able to meet you. I'm sorry about the circumstances that brought us together, but I'm so glad that we were able to meet."

.

It had become the norm for them to sit in Derek's room, after eating pizza and Stiles making a pillow fort for them to share the bounty of pudding cups. Stiles had gotten even better at figuring out what Derek would say if he were talking. Some of the young kids thought Stiles could read minds and had taken by wearing foil hats shaped like Magneto's helmet when Stiles told them that would keep him out.

"-and like werewolves seem so cool and you remind me of like a werewolf for some reason, but like one who doesn't go crazy and kill people, but like one in control of himself." Stiles said, spoon in hand and flying about in the air as he talked.

Derek eyed Stiles and snorted.

"Oh shut up, I know I'd be a bad werewolf, which is why I would be the plucky human who hangs out and helps the werewolves. Duh." Stiles made a face. Pausing, he took a spoonful of pudding and made a thoughtful noise. "Babe," he started, "we could leave this place and run away."

Derek looked up and dropped his spoon.

Stiles swallowed nervously, "Neither of us are all that happy here, you're almost eighteen and will be kicked out and I don't want you all out there on your own. I'm protective of you, you big lummox. And, I mean, boss man Deaton does a great job, but- well you know what it's like."

Derek nodded.

"So what do you think?" Stiles asked, making eye contact with Derek, "We can both talk the boss into letting us get our GED's now and then run away and get an apartment and jobs."

Derek frowned thoughtfully before giving Stiles a kiss.

"I take that as a yes." Stiles said whispered, kissing back.

.

"I can't decide if it's good or bad that all of our stuff can fit into two small bags." Stiles said, holding his TARDIS blue bag and eyeing Derek's muddy brown bag.

Derek huffed and put an arm around Stiles.

"I don't think Deaton will be surprised to find us gone. He seemed to know what was going to go down when I asked if we could take our GED. Even though I told him, you know I told him, you were there, but I told him that we wouldn't be running away. I said those words."

Derek nodded.

"Yeah, you were there. You know." Stiles said. "Sorry, I'm nervous."

Derek reached into his pocket and handed over a wad of money and a note.

Stiles made an inquisitive noise and took the money. It was two hundred dollars, and the note was from Deaton simply saying that he thought they might need it. "I knew he knew!" Stiles yelled.

Derek sighed but pulled Stiles' closer to him.

"Where did he hide it? He had to have hid it. Or did he give it to you. No, he wouldn't have left the note."

Derek pointed down.

"Your shoe!" Stiles yelled. "He left it in your shoe. Of course he did."

Derek gestured behind them.

"No, we aren't taking it back." Stiles' voice was soft, "I mean, he clearly wanted us to have it and we're probably going to have to put some sort of a deposit on the apartment." He pulled his coat around him more, "We should find a place today and then tomorrow look for jobs. We'll find something for you where you don't have to talk, because I respect your decision, you know that."

Derek nodded and smiled. He was always glad that Stiles never pushed him into talking like everyone else did, he'd gotten that idea across to Stiles months ago.

It wasn't hard letting Stiles talk to everyone, and they didn't question why Derek never said anything.

It was easy enough to get an apartment, it wasn't that great of one, small, cheap, a place where they didn't make sure you were over eighteen. But it was a place they could afford for now. It was better than the home for children, even if the home was a nicer and bigger, it was better because it was theirs.

.

"Hi, uh," Stiles ran a hand over his head, standing at the desk at the local worksource, "this is Derek and he wants a job."

"Why isn't he telling me this himself?" The woman raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't talk, and he doesn't know sign language." Stiles said quickly, "He can hear and know what you're saying and everything and gesture to what he means, write it down but-"

The woman eyed Derek, "Sounds a lot like Aphasia."

Stiles snapped his fingers, "Yes, that's it. I wasn't sure if you would have heard of it so I didn't want to mention it by name. He can still write though, as I said."

The woman nodded, "I'm sure I can find a job for him."

"I also want a job." Stiles said before she got back to work, "Not just him. We're both new in town and yeah, jobs would be ideal."

"I'm sure." She didn't look amused, "Fill out these forms," she handed some over, "and we'll try to find placements for you both."

.

Stiles opened the door to the apartment, "Babe, I'm home." He hummed, "Neighbor made us some cookies again." He sat them down on the counter.

Derek was in the living room, sitting on a sofa.

"Oh my God." Stiles said, eyes going wide, "You bought us a sofa today!" He ran to it and quickly climbed on and hugged Derek. "You are the best."

Derek smiled and nodded.

"Best." Stiles said again, "We officially have something other than a bed."

.

"Uh, yeah." Stiles said, nodding, "Refill on the coffee, please." He held up his mug.

"Be right back with that." The waitress said, nodding and walking away.

"So, this food is pretty good," Stiles said, between bites, "We should probably come here again. I like it here, the food came quick too and the service is good. Things are good, aren't they? You're happy here with me, right?" Stiles asked.

Derek nodded.

"Good, I'm glad. I'm happy too. With you." Stiles said, "We should have pizza tomorrow night with pudding cups, yes? We can go buy them after this, treat ourselves. I think that sounds great. It's our thing isn't it? Pudding. Lots of pudding and pizza. A night for the letter 'p'. And you know how I f-"

"Shut up." Derek said, voice rough.

Stiles blinked, frozen for a second before swallowing, "feel about pudding. It's like the time we met. Y'know, I've had too much coffee and then we have pudding." He smiled. "But I'll be quiet now, for the moment, you understand."

Derek smirked and nodded.


End file.
